Category: Women

Three months ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Eliza Marie. She came into our world with a quiet and gentle cry, and our family has been madly in love ever since. Over the last twelve weeks, we’ve welcomed her into our days and even in my most tired moments, I can’t believe that I’ve been given the privilege, again, of being called “Mommy.”

If you’ve been following along for any number of years around here, you’ll remember that when my son was born, I suffered from postpartum depression and anxiety. It took me quite a long time to see it for what it was, because the darkness came in waves, and wasn’t anything like I read or heard about in the media. It was like a fog that wouldn’t lift, and something I feared almost every day of my pregnancy with Eliza. What if it came back? Would I recognize it? What if it was worse? What if it never left?

I’m typing these words tonight as I look down at my snoozing baby girl, in complete awe of the blessing the past three months have been. I’m in tears telling you that she has been the sweetest of babies, and there has been no darkness. Of course, I’ve been exhausted–but the fog that hovered for months with the birth of our son has not shown its face for one day. For three years, I was terrified to be pregnant again. I was scared of having another c-section, dreaded nursing and “failing” again, and feared the depression that could show up in my walls. Friends, there has not been one day of darkness. Praise God.

And so tomorrow, I will head back to a job I love and coworkers who feel more like friends. My husband and I will high-five in the driveway as he prepares for a summer at home with our kids (he’s a teacher with summers off) and I will drive to my office. I’ll take a mental picture of the moment so that I can tell my girl one day what this day meant to her momma–the day I stopped trying to choose. I want her to know she doesn’t have to choose between motherhood and leadership, gentleness and strength, beauty and intellect, hospitality and adventure, accountability and freedom. She can have all of it. Every last bit.

Over the last few years, God has had me on a fumbling journey into ministry, marriage, and motherhood. I don’t have a thing for the letter M, really, it’s just that these three words hold so much weight because they have been the avenues God has used to shape me the most.

When I walked onto my Bible college campus in Cincinnati, eager and ready to study the Bible, one of my first meetings was with my academic advisor, who was there to help me select courses based on my proposed ministry goals. I enthusiastically expressed my desire to serve in ministry of some kind, maybe student ministry, and he let me know that it might be best to consider going into children’s ministry since not many (if any) churches would ever hire women for positions in student ministry.

I was shocked. I had never heard of this. My home church had women who served in ministry roles of all kinds, and I didn’t know some people thought women couldn’t use their gifts to minister to others because of their gender.

So I switched my major to music ministry because I could carry a tune. Then I realized I couldn’t figure out how to read complex music to save my life, and after many hours of struggling just to turn on the software to help me study music, I had a come-to-Jesus moment in my dorm room at 1 a.m., realized this was not my thing, and changed my major to biblical studies and general ministry.

Then something incredible happened. During my junior year of college, I got a phone call from my (new) academic advisor that a church in North Carolina was looking for a student ministry intern, and specifically wanted to hire a female to help grow their ministry to teenage girls. I went to visit, accepted the internship, and spent my senior year of college in a beautiful, southern town learning how to work in a church and ministry setting. It was a hard, brave, and beautiful year.

By far, though, one of the things I cherish most about that year was how much my two supervisors poured into me. They saw something in me that I couldn’t see yet, and they called it out when I was too afraid to pursue it. “You’re made for ministry,” they said, “and you have a gift.” I have to tell you very honestly that this terrified me. For all the right reasons, and then a lot of paranoid, made-up ones. I had heard some unkind things about my gifts and my gender going hand-in-hand, and it made me, at a minimum, nervous.

Something started that year, though, that gave me confidence. My student minister from high school wrote me a letter, too—encouraging and challenging me to keep pursuing Jesus and His calling on my life. I started opening my eyes and looking for the ways my brothers were encouraging women to use their gifts, and to my surprise, I found many.

In To Kill a Mockingbird, there’s a scene where Judge Taylor acknowledges a request that women and children be removed from the courtroom. While he denies the request, he says, “People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.” And while I can tell you a lot of stories about the things that have been hard, I can tell you more stories about brothers who have encouraged me, who have gone before me, who have defended me, who have challenged and respected me.

Maybe my perspective has changed, or maybe I’m looking for something different these days. Regardless, today, on International Women’s Day, I want to honor and thank my brothers. Your support, encouragement, and affirmation of the women you know and work alongside means so much, more than you know. Your voice is a loud one in this conversation, and the words you use to affirm your sisters in Christ are heard clearly. We are grateful to you, for the ways you push and challenge us to grow and follow Jesus, first, and to use the gifts He has given not for our glory but the glory of God and good of humanity.

To my sisters in the United States: let us remember to be so grateful that we live in a country where we have the freedom to vote, to use our gifts and voices, and receive an education. We live in a time where we don’t have to choose between gentleness and leadership, where we can seek both hospitality and knowledge of God—a world where we can nurture the children God gives us and do work we love and supports our families. Let us be so grateful, and let us not forget our sisters around the world who do not have the same. May we use our energies to fight on behalf of the voiceless.

Happy International Women’s Day, friends, and a special thanks to my brothers.